


Some Form of Normalcy

by szucsf



Series: Your New Truth [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Santa Clarita Diet (TV) Fusion, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angels, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel/Dean Winchester-centric, Communication, Dean Winchester Talks About Feelings, Dean Winchester is So Whipped, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Good Parent John Winchester, Healthy Relationships, Jack Kline and Claire Novak are Siblings, Light Angst, Loving Marriage, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Couple, Married Life, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Protective Dean Winchester, Smut, Supportive Sam Winchester, Trust, Wings, mentions of switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szucsf/pseuds/szucsf
Summary: Dean lived the apple pie life. He had a big suburban house he shared with the love of his life and their kids, his own successful business restoring vintage cars and a great relationship with his brother. It was perfect. At least it had been until Cas started showing strange symptoms: insomnia, lack of appetite, random headaches and… oh, yeah, he grew wings and killed someone in their backyard with a touch. But no need to worry, Dean got everything under control.(Loosely based on Netflix’s Santa Clarita Diet.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Your New Truth [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128179
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. Symptoms

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! I found Santa Clarita Diet with the help of Tumblr and I was hooked immediately. So of course I had to write a Destiel fic about it with a couple changes. Enjoy!  
> (Title is the first part of a Joseph Jackson quote: ‘Some form of normalcy with all the madness going on.’)

Dean woke before the alarm. The sun was shining outside but the bedroom was still cloaked in comfortable semi-darkness. Those drapes had been worth every cent.

He looked to the side and saw that Cas was still asleep. Not a surprise, but a pleasant thing nonetheless. It could mean a lot of fun for Dean.

He snuggled closer to his husband of fifteen years and nuzzled into the short dark strands at the nape of Cas’ neck, breathing in his honeyed shampoo and pressing a kiss on the stubbly skin of his jawline. His hands were wandering under the covers and damn, all that jogging was keeping Cas’ thighs as firm as… something very firm that could crush Dean’s skull if they wanted to.

“Dean,” came a grumpy voice from the pillow and yeah, that tone was just adorable.

“Yeah, babe?” he asked, his hand giving up its place on that killer hipbone to pull Cas’ bothersome t-shirt a bit down so he could press kisses to the appearing tan skin. His hips were thrusting shallowly against Cas’ ass and his husband pressed back into it with a little sigh.

“No time,” Cas murmured, his neck still tilting beautifully to give Dean more space, an arm reaching back so fingers could weave into his hair and pull him closer.

Cas was usually useless without his morning coffee so morning sex required more work from Dean – not that he minded. The love of his life warm and pliant under his hands, trusting Dean to give them both immense pleasure was one of the most awesome things he’d ever experienced.

Cas was also right, like usual. The alarm clock went off, the beeping irritating and souring Dean’s mood. He let Cas wriggle out of his grasp and get out of bed, but met him halfway when Cas leant over him to give him a long but closed-mouthed kiss that still left a tingling sensation on his lips even after so many years. Dean knew that while he felt like grinning like an idiot every time Cas kissed him or smiled at him with that adoring expression, he had nothing to worry about.

“I love you,” he let the grin take over his face, looking into Cas’ brilliant blue eyes. Fuck, those eyes…

“I love you, too, Dean,” Cas gave him another peck and disappeared into the bathroom. He was moving quite fast for seven a.m. but Dean was not about to complain that his husband had actually gotten some rest.

It didn’t take them much time to get ready for the day and Dean was just getting the peanut butter out of the fridge while Cas was scrolling on his phone and sipping his coffee when he heard a hurried pair of feet coming down the stairs.

“If you break a leg, it’s your fault,” he said as he turned to the counter.

“Good morning, Dads,” Jack greeted them with his usual sunny smile.

“Morning, kid,” he smiled back and Cas did the same. “Ready for school?”

Before Jack could answer there was a shout from upstairs.

“Dad! Where’s my leather jacket?”

“Dry-cleaners!” Cas yelled back. There was some unidentifiable grumbling before Claire appeared in the kitchen.

“Morning, grumpy-pants,” Dean arched a brow at her.

“When can I get it back?” she asked as she sat down next to Cas.

“It’ll be eighty degrees outside today,” Cas turned the phone towards Dean so he could take a look at the weather report. “Why do you want to wear your jacket anyway?”

“It looks cool, Cas,” Dean rolled his eyes as he finished off the sandwiches and wrapped them up. “I did the same, if you remember.”

“I’m sure Kaia will like you without it,” Jack said reassuringly and what was that?

“Who’s Kaia?” Cas cocked his head.

“And why haven’t we heard about her?” Dean joined in.

“Traitor,” Claire hissed at her brother.

“Sorry,” Jack winced.

“If this Kaia, whoever she is, would like to join us for dinner in the near or distant future, we’re happy to have her,” Dean smiled at his daughter to let her know she was off the hook.

She thanked it with a muttered “Whatever” that was the best they got nowadays. Honestly, the differences between her and Jack were sometimes frightening.

It didn’t take another fifteen minutes before they were ready to go. The Impala was parked before the garage so that made it necessary to interact with their neighbors who were leaving for work at the same time.

Dean heard his name and had to take a deep breath.

“Gordon,” he turned around. Cas would normally pack up the car without acknowledging the other man.

It had been like that since Gordon had moved here over two years ago and Dean had been the first one who’d met him. It had been fine up until Gordon realized he was talking to one part of the token gay couple in the street (which was ridiculous, they were both bi), when Cas had come out of the house to ask something. Gordon hadn’t made a sound when Dean had introduced them but his expression had told them everything.

They had been passive-aggressive with each other since then, Cas letting Dean handle most of their interactions. It was the best outcome because Cas could be really mean if he wanted to be.

Now though, his husband was looking at Gordon with narrowed eyes and a tilted head as if he was trying to see inside him.

“What’s up with the missus?” Gordon asked, a little taken aback by the sudden attention.

“You have no idea about same-sex relationships,” Dean rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

“You should try taking care of the environment more. Somebody left the light up in your living room. The Earth is dying.”

Jesus. Dean wanted to hit him but then Cas would take it as permission to make Gordon’s life a living hell and they couldn’t afford that.

“It was me,” Cas spoke up as he walked up to them, his face still like he was examining Gordon under a microscope. “Couldn’t sleep. Not that’s any of your business.”

Cas was up last night? Why hadn’t he told Dean that?

“Yeah, and our electricity bill and eco-friendliness is in that category, too,” Claire added from where she was leaning against the trunk.

It was just Gordon’s dumb luck that a voice from behind them were shouting greetings in their direction. If he so much as looked sideways at either of their kids, Cas wouldn’t stood a chance reaching him before Dean.

“Hi, Lisa!” Dean turned sideways so they could look at both their neighbors.

“Good morning, Victor. Ben,” Cas added with a smile this time, finally turning his gaze away from Gordon.

Lisa had been a good friend to them since they'd moved here and her son, Ben attached himself to Jack and Claire immediately. He found Claire cool and Jack was always there to play with him and knew funny facts about everything and that made them the best people in a then five-year-old’s eyes. Victor had been Lisa’s boyfriend at first, now his husband of three years and a loving step-father to Ben. Also quite great for a cop – Dean didn’t trust those on principle. They got along just fine with each other, unlike with Gordon, who was smart enough to retreat into his car.

“How’s it going?” Lisa asked as she threw Ben’s backpack into the backseat, the little guy sneaking past her to stand beside Jack. “We’re throwing a BBQ-party on Saturday. You coming?”

“Sure, we’re free,” Cas said.

“Dad can bake a pie,” Jack nodded in delight.

“That would be great,” Lisa grinned. “Those pies are delicious.”

“No problem,” Dean agreed. He could bake one for himself (and his family), too.

“What’s the occasion?” Cas asked.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Victor shrugged. “The house across from yours got sold. Lisa met one of the new owners.”

“She was lovely,” his wife nodded. “They’re moving in on Friday.”

“We noticed the sign was gone,” Dean looked briefly at the house in question.

“We should go,” Cas put a hand on his arm, wishing the others a wonderful day as he walked towards the passenger seat, directing the kids to do the same.

“Oh, Dean,” Victor stopped him before he could sit behind the wheel. “Next time you talk to Sam, tell him to pick up the freakin’ phone, okay?”

Why did Dean have to be a homing pigeon between his lawyer brother and his cop neighbor? They were seeing each other more than Dean and Sam did.

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed and waved at Lisa and Ben before getting into Baby.

They dropped Jack and Claire off at school with a little grumbling from the latter.

“Meet you at home,” Cas shouted after them.

“See you later, Dads,” Jack grinned and followed his sister over the park in front of the building.

“Is it weird that they’re best friends?” Cas asked as he looked after them.

“Sunshine, me and Sam were best friends, too,” Dean pointed out. “And remember, they’ve been like this since before we met them.”

They’d just finished college, finding steady jobs quickly after graduation and they had decided to try adoption. When they’d met Jack and Claire at the center, the superintendent, Sandra told them that it would be a ‘two for one kind of deal’ if they wanted either of them. They had decided to give it a try.

Claire had been completely closed off at their first private talk, only opening up slowly when she’d seen Jack talking animatedly to both of them. Dean had recognized some of himself in her, the guarded vulnerability in her big blue eyes speaking to him as much as Jack’s innocence had. He and Cas had only needed to look at each other to know the other was on board.

Even after the adoption it had taken months for Claire to believe she and Jack were safe and loved and they wouldn’t be sent back to the home, to know she had people at her back. Dean was happy with what they had achieved in ten years. Now Claire talked back not because she was defiant to protect herself but because she felt secure enough to do so.

And Jack was… Jack. The purest soul out there, adorable in his seriousness, fiercely loving and protective if the need arose.

God, Dean loved them both so much.

“So you couldn’t sleep?” he asked as he turned out of the lot. He hadn’t mentioned it in front of Gordon, that dick knew too much about them already.

He saw Cas shrug from the corner of his eye.

“It happens, Dean.”

“Are you alright? I noticed you only took one bite of your toast.”

“Don’t worry, beloved,” Cas probably rolled his eyes at him fondly now and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m okay.”

They arrived at _Winchester Vintage Cars_ in just five minutes. The gate was already open, a car parking under the office window where the employees left their vehicles.

“Morning, Dean. Cas,” Benny greeted them both when they got out of the car, standing next to the open garage doors with a cup of coffee, looking like he was still half-asleep.

“Hey, man,” Dean smiled. “You here long?”

“Nah, just no traffic. I was lucky.”

Dean walked to the side door that was leading to the reception area and from there to the little office behind it, Cas on his heels.

“Ash should be in in half an hour,” his husband said and put his briefcase on the desk closer to the window.

Dean shrugged off his flannel and grabbed his cover-all from the hook behind his own desk.

“Well, then you work your numbers,” he said as he changed into it. “We don’t have much work today, so I’ll be in the back where you’re not allowed to go.”

“Dean, it’s not a surprise if I know what it is,” Cas sighed but his lips ticked up.

“But it’s a gift and you’ll be surprised when you see her.” Dean pulled up the zipper and went over to pull Cas closer to him by the waist. “It’s my anniversary present so don’t spoil it.”

Cas had had that ugly car since they were teens and it had finally given up two months ago. Dean had decided to tune it up completely, make it something Cas could use safely and that wasn’t harming anyone’s eyes by just looking at it. It was slow going because Dean had to work on the clients’ cars first and foremost, but he promised himself it would be ready for their anniversary in May. Cas deserved nice things and this was something Dean could do for him.

“You got your phone on you?” Cas asked, his hand resting on Dean’s neck, thumb stroking the skin just behind his ear.

“Yep,” he nodded. “You can call if something comes up.”

He pressed a long, chaste kiss to his husband’s plush lips. Cas pushed back into him, a low humming sound escaping his throat.

Dean wouldn’t have minded if they stayed that way for a while but there were things to do and he pulled away reluctantly. He threw in a wink and a charming smile before getting out of the office and into the garage.

The work was monotonous and Dean welcomed it. He loved tinkering under the hood of a car, dissecting and putting back together the heart of a difficult machine. He’d always liked fidgeting with something, learning how it worked, knowing every little nuance of its structure.

It had been Cas, actually, who had noticed this because he noticed everything about him. And he had been the one who had said that Dean should apply to college to learn mechanical engineering and get a degree in something he knew and enjoyed.

Dean owed Cas for a lot of things in his life.

He often lost track of time when he was working and it happened now, too. Cas’ Continental was a bitch to repair, it was a damn miracle she hadn’t fallen into pieces under Cas one day getting groceries. The noise picked up around him as his employees arrived and went to work. He returned the greetings thrown his way without really lifting his head. There were some good things in being the boss.

“Chief, I think you’d like to know that Roman is here.”

Dean banged his head on the hood.

“Shit!” he hissed, rubbing the spot as he looked up at Benny. “What’s that fucker doin’ here again?”

“Brought in a car, supposedly. He was just lucky enough that Cas was at the front desk. He’s with him now,” his friend added with a sympathetic grimace.

“Damn it,” Dean threw the rag down and stormed out to the main area.

His skin was crawling just from thinking about Dick Roman. The guy was arrogant, a rich CEO with the smile of a shark and a troubling fixation on Cas. Not that his husband needed protection because he could handle himself just fine and was clearly not interested, but Dean didn’t want that asshole anywhere near Cas. It was most unfortunate that he couldn’t just kick the guy out – he had a bunch of classics, all beauties without getting any real appreciation, and he also had great connections to other arrogant, rich people with cars like his.

Dean had still tried to get rid of him after his third innuendo aimed at Cas with Dean standing right there, but they couldn’t afford bad press or a group of lawyers hounding their asses. Cas made him promise not to do anything about it, so Dean just imagined punching Dick in the nose (or somewhere else, depending in his mood) every time he looked at him, then pulled Cas into their office for a steamy make-out session after he left. Every one of their employees knew not to disturb them or fuck something up in a day that Roman showed up. Which sadly happened more and more often. Dean was suspecting he was _buying_ cars just so he could get a reason to come here.

He was there now, too, standing next to a stunning blue ’71 Chevy Corvette Stingray Coupe, of all things. God, why did the worst people have the most amazing cars?

“Mr. Roman,” Dean greeted him. “What can we do for you?”

“Dean!” the Dick flashed his teeth at him but his eyes immediately returned to Cas with that predatory gleam in them that made Dean shudder and it wasn’t even directed at him. His husband seemed extra frowny and squinty now. “As I was just saying to your lovely husband here, these nice wheels need some care. I was hoping you could take a look while I talk the finances over with Castiel.”

As if.

“As always, first I have to make sure what this lady needs,” Dean patted the hood like they hadn’t had this discussion a dozen times before. “I’ll talk it through with Cas and then call you about the expenses.”

Roman’s smile didn’t waver but his eyes narrowed just the slightest bit.

Before he could answer (Dean was sure he had a couple other reasons up his sleeve that would grant him alone time with Cas), a painful groan interrupted their talk.

Dean’s head snapped to the side to look at Cas who was clutching his temples with both hands and was swaying on his feet.

“Cas!” he grabbed his husband’s arm to steady him and Cas leaned against him with most of his weight, eyes screwed shut in pain. Dean’s heart jumped into his throat. “What’s wrong?”

Cas looked a bit like he would throw up if he opened his mouth, sweat beading on his forehead and a whimper leaving his throat. His face was either white or a little green, Dean couldn’t really decide.

“Dean, here,” Ash, who actually should’ve manned the front desk was there from nowhere and took Cas’ other arm and threw it over his shoulders. “Come on.”

Benny held the door open for them and then went to probably get rid of Roman.

Dean was eternally grateful for them both. They sat Cas on the office couch, Dean sitting beside him but his condition didn’t seem to get any better. Dean shushed him and combed his fingers through his hair, trying to sooth whatever pain he was having. Cas’ face was buried into his shoulder, burrowing into his warmth for comfort.

Ash was gone and back quickly with a clean rag full of ice from the freezer they used mostly in the summer. Dean took it from him and started to drag it over every free patch of skin.

They were maybe ten minutes in and Dean was seriously considering calling an ambulance when Cas finally sagged against him, his muscles unclenching all at once like his strings were cut, taking large, heaving breaths.

“Hey,” Dean touched his chin and lifted his head slightly. The frown was still on but the tense lines at his eyes were gone. His hands were trembling where they clutched at Dean’s waist. “Cas, babe, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I think so.” Now the frown seemed more thoughtful. He pushed himself up, hands on his lap. “It’s gone.”

“What happened?” Dean asked. He'd never heard of a headache like that.

“I… don’t really know.” Cas looked at his desk. Dean grabbed his wrist only to stop him from moving. His hands still had a faint tremor but otherwise Cas actually looked quite alright.

“No. I’m taking you home.”

“Dean, I’m okay.”

“Maybe.” He leaned in close, whispering, “Cas, you scared me. Please, let me take you home.”

Cas’ expression softened marginally.

“Alright,” he agreed.

After they packed up and Dean changed out of his cover-all, they made their way outside. Dean left Benny in charge and pushed Cas towards the Impala.

They were almost home when Cas spoke up, more pensive than anything.

“It was like… screeching.”

“What? Screeching?”

“Yes. Like when you hear a hunting owl or tires when you hit the break except… louder and constant and… I could understand it.” Dean just gaped silently. “It was like a thousand voices screaming at each other inside my head and then it just… went silent.”

Dean turned into their driveway and while they waited for the garage door to open, he asked, “You know this sounds insane, right?” He had half a mind to turn around and take Cas to the nearest clinic.

“Yes, I know.” His husband rolled his eyes. “But it’s all gone now like it never happened.”

Dean parked the car and ushered Cas upstairs to take a shower. When the door of their in-suite bathroom closed he pulled the curtains close. He didn’t care that Cas felt fine. Migraine left you sensitive to light so Dean acted accordingly.

Next he went down to the kitchen and quickly prepared some of his mother’s hot tomato-rice soup. While it was warming up he put together a sandwich for himself and devoured it as lunch.

Cas was already in bed in comfortable clothes when he returned, balancing the soup on a tray. He put it on the nightstand and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, sweeping Cas’ still damp hair out of his forehead.

“Mhm,” Cas smiled at him and pulled him close for a kiss. Before Dean could've reacted he found himself on his back with his husband hovering over him, food forgotten.

“Whoa,” he blinked up at him. Cas was naturally strong but this one was a new maneuver. Dean was a bit dizzy from it, so it took him a moment to realize that Cas’ hands were already on his belt. “Slow down, tiger.”

“You really want me to?” Cas smirked down at him as he worked and that made Dean move.

“Yes!” he blurted out despite the fact that his body was really on board with the idea. He sat up and took Cas’ hands in his, mostly to stop them from wandering but for some connection, too. “What’s gotten into you?”

Cas was not a smirker. Dean loved making him smile or laugh, that always felt like the sun coming out after rain – in Kansas, not in California, the weather here was freakily sunny. Case in point, Cas didn’t smirk. If he was being smug or coy or even arrogant, it was mostly in his eyes or at the corner of his lips at best. So this, now, it just didn’t add up.

Well, it was already gone, replaced with a frown and narrowed eyes.

“Dean. I want sex.”

“That’s great, sunshine, but are you really sure –”

“Of course,” Cas rolled his eyes and moved even closer, straddling Dean’s legs. “I want to make you feel good,” he whispered against Dean’s cheek and damn, it was working. He was never good at saying no to Cas. “Please? We can talk after.”

“Promise?” he shivered despite himself.

Cas pulled away just enough so he could look into his eyes.

“I promise,” he said seriously.

Dean believed him.

He could barely nod before Cas was all over him, kissing him with everything he had. His weight pushed Dean back into the pillows and his fingers were back to business. Dean moaned around his tongue and he couldn’t help the way he thrusted up into Cas’ very skilled hand.

Foreplay seemed to be completely forgotten – another new thing – because Cas went straight home and swallowed him down in one go, throwing all of Dean’s coherent thoughts out the window.

“Christ!” he shouted as he gripped into Cas’ hair.

And fuck, they had been having sex almost daily since they were what, seventeen? So Cas knew his every tic and every spot that made him lose his damn mind and he was really putting that knowledge to good use now. No teasing, no built-up.

He knew he was swearing up and down like a sailor but fuck it. Cas was pulling an orgasm out of him in record time, his eyes glinting and hair a mess from Dean’s touch and he looked so sexy Dean’s breath stuck in his lungs for a couple moments. Cas played with his balls and then his fingers drifted lower – careful still, like always, no matter the rush – and circled around his hole. A strategical suck on the head and a thumb pushing in to the first knuckle was all Dean needed to come. His vision whited out and a silent scream left his throat and Cas was swallowing around him and it was so, so good he wanted to cry.

After, when his soul returned to his body and his brain got enough oxygen again, he was looking up at Cas’ smiling face. It was a soft smile, no flash of teeth or any hint of that flirty grin from before, his gaze almost wondrous. He pressed a gentle kiss to Dean’s forehead and one on his lips and Dean cupped his jaw with that lovesick expression he knew he always had after especially good sex (so, like, ninety-nine percent of the time).

Cas was hard, he felt him against his hip. Dean turned a bit to undo his pants and get his hands on him. Cas groaned and hissed his name as soon as Dean got a steady grip on him. He pretty soon reduced Cas to a panting mess, his breath warm on his face, sloppy, wet kisses shared between them.

Cas came with a low, drawn-out moan and sagged against Dean. They cuddled close like they always did, sweat-soaked clothes be damned.

“I love you,” Cas murmured into his neck, nuzzling into the skin there. He sounded content and sated.

Dean pulled him even closer and kissed his temple.

“I love you, too, Cas.”

They lazed around a little more before Cas sighed and got out of the embrace, holding out a hand for Dean to pull him up.

After a thorough shower and a change of clothes Cas led them down into the kitchen and they both stopped in their tracks. The kitchen island and some part of the floor was littered with glass.

“What the fuck?” Dean asked.

“The lightbulbs,” Cas pointed out and yep, he was right. No bulbs in the lamps.

“What happened? They just overcharged?” Dean asked as he grabbed the broom they kept in the gap between the fridge and the wall. “I’ll go see the fuse-board.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Cas said with a frown and crutched down to hold the dustpan. It only took a couple minutes to make the kitchen clean again. They could replace the bulbs later.

“What are you talking about?” he asked as Cas emptied the pan in the bin.

Cas bit his lip in thought for a long moment, looking at Dean, then nodded to himself.

“Look,” he grabbed a knife from the holder and before Dean could stop him, cut into his palm. Deeply.

“Fuck! Cas, what the hell –”

Before he could’ve gotten further, he noticed it. The wound didn’t bleed. No, it was glowing, like someone had put a damn flashlight under the skin. Cas didn’t even twitch as the edges pulled themselves back together. The gash disappeared like it had never been there, not leaving even a drop of blood behind.

Dean felt lightheaded. He needed to sit down. He leaned against the counter and slid down to the floor because it was the closest flat surface and he couldn’t fall from there. Cas caught him halfway down and they ended up in a reverse kind of embrace to the one in the office.

“I got a paper cut while working,” Cas sighed. “It did the same thing then. I wanted to call you but Dick showed up.”

“And what _is_ that?” he took Cas’ hand in his, looking at the unblemished skin. “Jesus.”

“That’s not all,” his husband admitted.

Dean was going to get a coronary.

“Oh my God, what is it now?” he muttered into Cas’ shoulder.

“I tried to eat an apple while working. I could hardly swallow down the first bite. It was just so… overwhelming, like the taste was amplified by a thousand times. It was just too much. Same with the toast and coffee this morning.” He took a breath. “Dean, I don’t know what’s going on. I hardly slept and I’m not tired. I’m not hungry. The thing that’s happened in the garage. I could hear you chewing while I was in the shower, I heard the lights exploding while we were upstairs – I have a suspicion I made them explode, too. And I don’t bleed.” He put his chin on the top of Dean’s head. “People are… glowing. They have this light inside them I can see if I look hard enough. Everyone. Well, Gordon and Dick were more dim than others, but still. It’s beautiful and I don’t know what I’m seeing.”

Dean just gave up on freaking out now. This day was way too weird for that anymore.

“How’s my light looking?” he asked, lifting his head so he could look up a bit better.

“Bright. Strong. I was almost blinded by it while you were having that orgasm.” Dean blushed. Cas didn’t seem bothered. “And after… it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Cas, this is fucking crazy.”

Cas looked like he wanted to say something but his mouth snapped shut and he tilted his head a little.

“Claire and Jack are home.”

It took a couple seconds but then the front door opened.

“I’m just saying you didn’t have to do that,” Jack was saying.

“He was a dick. I just told him as such,” Claire answered. “Dads!”

“In the kitchen, sweetheart!” Cas shouted back and helped Dean to his feet.

Yeah, the kids. They didn’t need to know about any of this until he and Cas knew what the fuck was happening.

“What did you do again?” Dean asked when Jack and Claire appeared in his line of sight.

The rest of the day went by in somewhat of a blur. He wasn’t exactly proud of it but Dean couldn’t really remember what they’d talked about. He helped with Jack’s physics homework without really realizing what he was doing and the food Cas cooked for dinner went down without him tasting it – honestly, he wasn’t even sure what it was.

Cas looked like he did any other evening, like he was perfectly fine. He was asking about their day and he was looking at them with adoring eyes like he hadn’t just gotten a shiny… something in his veins instead of blood.

When everyone was finally in their own room, preparing for bed, he was just sitting in the armchair in the corner and looking out the dark window. God, he wanted a drink.

“Here,” Cas put a glass with an inch of whiskey in it on the small table. He was already in his sleeping clothes.

“You read minds now?” Dean asked as he sipped on the golden liquid. It burned on the way down.

“I don’t think so. I just know you,” Cas shrugged, sitting down on the armrest.

“Tell me if it changes,” Dean muttered.

“You’ll be the first to know,” Cas rolled his eyes, fingers playing with Dean’s hair. The gesture was soothing and Dean leaned into it. It felt really good, spiriting away the headache he didn’t even know he’d had until it was gone.

He must’ve been more tired than he realized because the next thing he knew, Cas was reaching under his knees and back and lifting him up from the chair. Something wasn’t right about that but Cas smelled good and his skin was warm and it probably didn’t really matter anyway. Before Dean could snuggle closer to him he was put on soft linen and the sheets were pulled over him. He probably sighed but he was asleep almost instantly again.

He woke early the next morning, half-draped over Cas’ body, breathing into his neck. He felt rested and comfortable and it lasted until he remembered the madness that yesterday had been.

Cas was awake, he knew that immediately.

“You slept at all?” Dean murmured, his lips brushing the prickly skin.

“Not really,” Cas admitted. “More like dozed a couple hours. Your breathing was calming.”

Dean curled around him even more, his grip on Cas’ t-shirt tightening.

“This is freaking me out, Cas,” he admitted.

Cas sighed and the arm around Dean’s back pulled him closer.

“Talk to Sam,” he said lowly. “I’ll call Benny and tell him we’re skipping today. I won’t leave the house because we don’t know what the hell could happen and you need an outsider to talk to. I trust Sam.”

“You thought about this,” Dean realized.

“It was a long night.”

After dropping Jack and Claire at school like usual – and he and Cas needed to speak about what to tell them – he turned towards Burbank. Sam lived not an hour away in good traffic, a lovely apartment a couple minutes from the courthouse and he was usually at home on Thursday.

He was knocking for almost five minutes when the door finally opened and he just faintly recognized his brother’s epic bitch face before he pushed past him into the living room.

“Dean, what –”

“We need to talk. Or I need to talk to someone. Cas is right, I have to at least do some talking or I’m just gonna lose my mind. So I need you to listen and let me rant.”

“We can’t do this later?” Sam asked with frustration.

“What, you got better things to do than help your brother in need?” Dean turned around to face him.

“Hey,” a new voice joined in from the door leading to the hallway. A woman with disheveled brown hair and in one of Sam’s huge shirt was standing there, a little awkward smile on her face.

Oh. Well, that explained why Sam wasn’t really welcoming.

“Hi,” Dean greeted her with a forced smile of his own. “Sorry to interrupt, but I really need to talk to my brother. It’s kind of an emergency.”

Sam sighed dramatically and introduced them, “Sparrow, Dean. Dean, Sparrow,” before he led her back towards the bedroom, apologizing profusely and throwing a look over his shoulder at Dean who just winked back.

It only took them ten or so minutes to turn up again, finally dressed up and the girl wishing Dean good luck as the front door closed behind her.

“You couldn’t have called?” Sam grumbled and went to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“I did,” he pointed out. Not his fault Sam hadn’t picked up. “You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Sam blushed. “I met her in the courthouse’s cafeteria yesterday afternoon. She’s a witness in another case.”

“So you got her number?” Dean arched a brow from the couch.

“No.”

“Sammy, you need to find someone more permanent than a one-night stand.” He wasn’t judging, he just wanted his little brother to be happy. Dean was living the domestic dream for almost half his life now and he wanted that for Sam, too. “I know your work is important but you could find a balance.”

“I’m not the one with an existential crisis right now,” Sam glared at him as he sat into the armchair. “What’s up with you?”

Dean told him everything, all the strange and bizarre things happening yesterday. Somewhere in the middle of it he started pacing.

Sam’s face went from slightly confused to baffled and then to extremely worried as Dean talked. It wasn’t very promising.

“Glowing,” he said with disbelief and Dean couldn’t blame him. “His blood was glowing?”

“No, Sam,” Dean stopped to look at him. “There was no blood. Not a drop. Just the glowing, like something from _The X Files_.”

“Dean.” Sam now sounded placating as he looked him over with careful eyes. “Are you alright? You didn’t hit your head or something?”

“Fuck off! I’m fine!”

“You know this sounds crazy, right?” It was almost the same thing Dean himself had asked Cas yesterday, but Sam sounded a bit condescending, the bastard. “You tell me it happens every time Cas cuts himself?”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s home right now?”

“Yes.”

“Then we go so I can see this for myself, right?”

“Good idea. Let’s go.”

Sam seemed surprised at his enthusiasm but followed him nonetheless. He still asked if it wouldn’t be safer if he drove but at Dean’s dirty look he slid into the passenger seat without much of a fuss.

The way back to Santa Clarita was spent with the radio on and Dean suffering under the still worried glances Sam shot in his direction.

Getting home was a relief up until he saw a familiar orange Pontiac GT-37 in front of their house.

“What’s that son of a bitch doing here?” he got out of Baby quickly.

“Who?” Sam hurried after him.

“Roman. I repaired that car last month.” He stormed inside, his brother on his heels. “Cas! Babe!”

He went through the kitchen to the living room and found the slide door to the backyard open. He stepped outside and the sight made him stop dead in his tracks. Sam almost tripped over him.

“What –”

Roman stood there with his eyes narrowed at Cas, one hand on his waist, the other covering his mouth. That was freaky enough but it wasn’t what made it frightening. No, the most shocking thing was Cas’ face, contorting into such an intense loathing Dean hardly recognized him.

Then he slowly lifted his hand and his eyes brightened with the same ethereal blue-white light his cut had shone with. Dean saw the self-satisfied smirk melting off Dick’s face, turning into absolute horror, but it was already too late.

Cas’ palm pressed against his forehead and two things happened at the same time. One, Dick’s whole body lit up from the inside like a Christmas tree, light pouring from his eyes and open mouth. His hands fell to his sides and Dean was almost blinded.

The other thing was the pair of fucking _wings_ bursting out from thin air, huge and otherworldly and growing out straight from Cas’ back. The view was frightening and Dean almost fell to his knees from it.

It couldn’t have lasted more than a couple seconds but it felt like forever. Then Roman crumpled to the ground, eyes two hollow black holes and the wings snapped shut, the light disappearing completely, leaving Cas standing on the grass with a stoic expression, one eyebrow raised as he looked down at the dead body laying at his feet.

Then his head snapped up and his face cleared.

“Hello, Dean. Sam. We seem to have a problem.”


	2. How to Burn a Dead Body

Sam handled it better, all in all.

“There’s a body in our garden!” Dean tried to whisper but it came out more like a hysterical shout.

“Yeah, who was killed by _your husband_ ,” Sam answered in a similar tone. Dean gave a careful glance at the husband in question, sitting at the kitchen island. Cas seemed completely unaffected which was probably the shock (at least Dean really hoped so), his gaze kept on the huge wings that were still attached to his back.

They were pretty to look at, that was for sure. Their full span was maybe twenty-five feet, each of them at least the twice of Dean’s size. The feathers, some as long as Dean’s arm, seemed dark and oily, sweeping the floor even with Cas standing, but when the sunlight hit them right they burst into colors like a friggin’ prism. They seemed the strange mix of soft and dangerous and Dean would’ve been in awe if he wasn’t completely terrified and out of his depth, standing in his living room with a corpse just a couple feet away.

“You’re the lawyer here, what should we do?” he asked his brother.

Sam took a deep breath and massaged his temple.

“We have to get it inside before somebody sees it. Have to get rid of it. No body, no murder.”

Jesus. Yeah. That seemed logical.

Roman was quite heavy for such a skinny guy. His burned-out eyes were creepy, his mouth still open from his last scream. They put him on the couch because where else could they put him?

“I should feel regret,” Cas spoke up from where he was still sitting, his eyes now curiously studying the corpse. “I don’t.”

Dean shared a look with Sam before he walked closer to his newly-winged husband. Sam made a movement like he was about to stop him but if Dean knew something, it was that Cas wouldn’t hurt him. Ever.

Cas didn’t move when Dean crutched in front of him and took his hands in his own, but those inquisitive blue eyes were locked on his.

“Cas, honey, listen…” He swallowed thickly. “I admit I ain’t got no idea what’s going on right now. Can you help me with that, sweetheart?”

“Well, I don’t think I’m considered human anymore,” Cas said bluntly, the wings fluttering behind him as if confirming that theory.

“What was Roman doing here?” Dean asked carefully.

Cas’ face darkened.

“Supposedly came to check on me after yesterday.”

“How the hell did he know our address?” Dean huffed.

“I asked him the same. Then he propositioned me. More than once.” If the bastard hadn’t been dead, Dean would’ve killed him. “When I said no, he said he could make our life extremely difficult. Send you to jail, lawsuit the whole company. Then he mentioned something about Claire’s blonde hair and I –”

The wings were trembling and the lights started flickering ominously. Fuck, he needed to chill before he blew up the whole neighborhood.

“Cas, hey, alright, he’s gone. Everyone’s safe, okay? Sunshine, look at me, it’s alright.”

Their eyes met and Dean didn’t let him go until Cas calmed down and his wings settled back against his back.

“Incredible,” Sam said in amazement. “How did you do that?”

Jesus, the geek.

“I think we have other things to worry about,” Dean turned a bit to look at him.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry.”

“Alright. Cas. Can you do something about those?” he pointed at the wings as he straightened up.

“You don’t like them?” Cas’ face flashed with hurt.

God, it was like talking to a five-year-old.

“They’re beautiful,” he said honestly. “But they’re hardly practical right now.”

Cas bit his lip and looked at them with something almost like melancholy.

“You’re right,” he sighed. He frowned in concentration and the new appendages disappeared like they’d never existed. Cas rolled his shoulders. “Jack and Claire will be home in a couple hours.”

“We have to get rid of him until then,” Sam pointed out. “He was important. They’ll search for him.”

“I think I can do it. Burn all of him, I mean,” Cas stood up. He seemed to be back mostly to himself and Dean was infinitely grateful for that practical side showing up again.

“There’s still the car,” Dean reminded them. “We’re just lucky he came alone and not with a driver.” He turned to his husband. “And you’re not doing anything here. You can burn down the house.”

Cas didn’t like that.

“Says the one who lighted up the curtains in our first apartment because he was playing with his lighter,” he crossed his arms.

“We agreed we’re not talking about that.”

All three of them were looming over the body now.

“What did you even do?” Sam asked his brother-in-law.

“I had this… energy, almost like electricity inside me, getting stronger and stronger with every word he said and then I just kind of… poured it into him,” Cas shrugged. “I was so mad and somehow I knew this would work.”

They did put together a plan in the next half an hour. Dick’s car was too flashy for the cameras to avoid when they would be inevitably checked when the cops got involved. In the end they decided to put Dick in the trunk of the Impala. Dean would drive the Pontiac to the desert and they would leave it there – if any evidence was found in the car it should be his as he had actually worked on it. Cas and Sam would follow him there on another route so Cas could burn the body completely. Sam was a really big help on what to avoid. He went through dozens of cases where the murderer had slipped up and got caught because of one tiny detail.

It was just their luck that it was the middle of the day so practically nobody had been at home in the neighborhood when Dick showed up, or now, when they needed the car gone. And the windows were tinted – a blasphemy on a classic like her but not like Dean could do anything about it.

He avoided any and all cameras and the sun was high in the sky when he arrived at the end of the dirt road where the desert really started. The theory was the authorities would assume Dick just went off the rails and started walking, leaving the car there with a previously disabled GPS (deleted history, because Sam was smart like that).

“Everything okay?” he asked the other two when he got out of the car, leaving the key in the ignition and the door open. He pulled off his leather gloves.

“It was fine,” Sam answered. They opened the trunk and looked inside. Dean had heard that the dead looked smaller and more fragile but he just saw an unmoving Dick Roman. They got him out and placed him a couple yards from the cars in the dirt.

“You know what you’re doing?” Dean asked Cas.

“I think so. But you should get back just in case.”

The brothers retreated a couple steps. Cas stood there, back straight, completely unmoving, looking down at the body. And then looking a little more. Dean was about to ask him if he was alright but then Roman burst into flames.

It wasn’t natural. No smell, no smoke, no ash or sparks flying in the air. Just the fire, burning up the body.

It took a couple minutes but the result was mind-bogging: there was nothing. The ground was immaculate, not a flick of clothing or charred bones. It was just… gone.

“From now on you’re the one cleaning,” was all Dean could say.

“No,” Cas said simply as he walked by them and slid into the backseat.

Dean eyed the Pontiac regretfully for a long moment because all that sand wouldn’t be good for her, then pulled himself together.

“I already told Cas this, but I think you should go and visit Bobby,” Sam said after Baby’s wheels were rolling on asphalt again. “It would get you out of town and I know no one else who has a better chance in helping you.”

“So what, we just up and drive to Sioux Falls?” Dean scoffed. “And what about the kids?”

“They could stay with me for a couple of days, you know that,” his brother added.

“I was thinking about what to tell them, but sure.”

“We should tell the truth,” Cas spoke up. He was looking out the window with a serious expression on his face.

“The truth? That would go down well. ‘Hey, your parents just killed an important and rich man, got rid of his body and now we’re going to Uncle Bobby to see why your dad has fucking wings.’ Fantastic.” Dean saw Cas sharp, reprimanding look in the rearview mirror and flinched. “Dear,” he added. Sam snickered.

“We have to tell them _something_ ,” Cas pointed out. “They’ll know something’s up as soon as we tell them we’re leaving. We worked really hard on the trust they put in us and I won’t risk that.”

Damn it, he was right.

“Fine,” Dean admitted defeat. “And you think Bobby could help?” he looked over at his brother.

“You know how big his collection on supernatural things is. I’m sure he’ll know more than we do and that’s something at least,” Sam shrugged.

True enough. Bobby’s vast knowledge would be useful. And this was something they couldn’t just go and ask anyone else without suspicion.

“Won’t it be, I don’t know, telling that Roman disappeared and now we just pack up and disappear into the Midwest?”

“No, because one, Roman never reached your house, he was never there – you have to deep clean the couch, by the way, and anything else he might’ve touched. Hose down the backyard, too, while you’re at it. Two, you went on a road trip and visited Bobby because Cas’ strange headache was kind of alarming and you decided to relax a bit. Three, you would be back in a couple days, tops.” Sam took a deep breath. “You’ll already be on the suspect list, but Roman had enemies. You won’t be the first to come to mind.”

“You’re scarily good at this,” Dean admitted as he parked the car on the driveway. “You coming in or I should’a take you home?”

“Home. I’ll tidy up for Jack and Claire.”

“I’ll pack up till then,” Cas opened the door but instead of getting out he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Thank you, Sam. Truly.”

“We’re family, Cas,” was all Sam said with a smile. “You’ll do the same for me.”

“One of us would,” Dean corrected him. The other needed to be clean for the kids. He would probably take the helping thing on himself, because Sam was his little brother and admittedly the other two without supervision could be a little chaotic. It was the strangest thing because alone they were both smart and level-headed but if you put them together…

“Point,” Sam admitted.

“See you soon,” Cas kissed Dean’s cheek and was out of the car. “Oh and Sam, Victor said to pick up the phone.”

“Fuck it,” Sam hissed mostly to himself.

The road back to Burbank was spent mostly in silence, Sam texting constantly and sometimes swearing just to spice it up. Dean wasn’t inclined to speak up either, the fact that they had just got rid of a corpse occupying most of his thoughts.

Parking on the side of the road in front of Sam’s apartment complex was easy.

“Check if they really did their homework – especially Claire, she’s smart but lazy. Jack can’t eat any sweets after eight or he won’t be able to sleep. And –”

“Dude, stop it. I know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “And anyway, shouldn’t I be the fun uncle?”

“You’re their only uncle. Not like there’s competition,” Dean said.

“Bitch,” Sam punched his arm as he got out.

“Jerk,” Dean answered automatically, then leaned over to look at Sam through the rolled down window. “Sammy, I owe you. Big one.”

“What I told Cas. We’re family.” He thought for a moment. “I mean, if I could make some observations or maybe experiments –”

“Sure, use my husband as your science project,” Dean nodded sarcastically.

“And if he agrees?”

“Then just at ours and nothing that could harm him or others, got it?” he was surprised by how carelessly that rolled off his tongue. Maybe he was actually working through this shit.

“’Course. And Dean, if something else happens or you just wanna talk while you’re away, just call, alright?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“And give Bobby a kiss for me.”

Sam patted the roof of the Impala and turned to go inside and Dean started the way home, cranking up the music to drown out his thoughts for the little while he had peace and quiet for the next couple of days.

It lasted up until he arrived back home.

“Dad said you’re going somewhere but he didn’t tell why,” Claire attacked him the moment he was inside the door. “Why can’t we stay here alone? We’re fifteen.”

“I love visiting Uncle Sam,” Jack appeared at her back. “But what’s going on, Dad? We’re not going to Lisa’s BBQ?”

Fuck, the party. He had totally forgotten that.

“Okay, you two calm down,” he sighed. “We’re going to talk about this. Where’s Dad?”

“Upstairs. He just finished vacuuming when we got home and then told us to pack because we’re going to Uncle Sam’s,” Jack shrugged.

“That’s all?”

“No, he hugged us and said we have to talk about something, too.”

“I’ll check on him. When everyone packed up, we’re meeting down here and have that talk, okay?”

“Right,” Jack agreed easily and started for the stairs.

Claire stayed, her arms crossed almost defensively over her chest, the frown she learned from Cas appearing between her brows. Her eyes were shining with concern she was trying to hide.

“You and Dad okay?” she asked quietly.

Dean’s heart swelled with love as he pulled her into a tight hug. Claire didn’t even try to protest, just nuzzled into his shoulder. She was always the more observant one.

“Nobody’s dying, okay?” he whispered in her ear. “We’ll tell you some of it now and more when we got back, alright?”

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Yeah, I promise,” he kissed her hair.

“Fine,” she pulled back, her usual brave and indifferent face back on again. “Then hurry up, old man, I don’t have all day.”

Dean followed her upstairs with a smile and went into the master bedroom where Cas already had a duffel bag on the bed, half-full of clothes. They hadn’t used that since there was just the two of them. Children were easier to handle with suitcases.

“Hey,” he greeted Cas who appeared at the bathroom door with their toothbrushes. “Nostalgic much?”

“We should go camping,” he said as he put them away.

“Yeah, Claire would like when there’s no reception,” Dean smirked but the idea was kind of appealing. Just the four of them in the woods, spending time together without the usual interferences of their lives.

“And the lack of indoor plumbing,” Cas agreed and looked up at Dean standing beside him. There was something vulnerable in his eyes before he leaned in and pressed their lips together.

Dean kissed back on instinct, his eyes closing. He thought it would be just a gentle, chaste kiss but then Cas’ lips parted and it became something deep and passionate and languid. Dean’s hands wandered to Cas’ waist to pull him closer and fingers were caressing his jaw and sliding into his hair and his heart was gonna beat out of his chest.

They just stood there for minutes, making out without it leading anywhere. The press and pull of their mouths made goosebumps appear all over Dean’s skin and Cas actually shuddered with his whole body when Dean did that thing with his tongue that always made him moan.

The stress of the day was slowly leaving Dean and when Cas finally pulled back he was almost cross-eyed from the whole thing.

“Whoa,” Dean whispered and Cas smiled at him, the nose-crunching one he loved so much. “What was that for?”

“Today. And yesterday. And the last twenty years,” Cas smoothed his thumb over the freckles on his cheek. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean wanted to say a lot of things they didn’t have the time for now. So he pecked Cas’ lips one more time with a smile.

“C’mon,” he nodded to the still half-packed bag. “I hope you put in my red flannel.”

They were up and ready in another ten minutes, waiting in the living room for Jack and Claire. They both heard when their kids came down and put their bags on the floor.

“So,” Claire plopped down on the sofa. Jack sat down beside her, his back straight, eyes attentive.

“So, uh,” Dean started.

“I have a condition,” Cas interrupted him. “I had a strange headache yesterday and other symptoms and we don’t know what it means. It’s nothing bad, I feel fine, but we have to get more information.”

“We think Uncle Bobby could help figure things out,” Dean added. “So we’ll drive up to him. It shouldn’t take more than a couple days.”

“Why Uncle Bobby?” Claire asked. “California’s full of medical experts.”

“Uncle Bobby has a lot of books on obscure and mythical subjects,” Jack said, looking like he was putting it together as he spoke.

Damn, the kid was bright.

Claire sat up straighter immediately, her gaze sharpening even more. Dean exchanged a helpless look with Cas who just shrugged and nodded.

“Yes,” he looked back at the two. “My symptoms are not what you would call… natural.”

“I saw it, Uncle Sam saw it,” Dean sighed. “We don’t know what’s going on or why and we need to figure it out, the sooner the better. We trust Bobby with this.”

There were a couple moments of silence, both Claire and Jack’s eyes jumping from one parent to the other.

“And you’ll tell us everything when you get back, right?” Jack finally asked.

“Everything,” Claire repeated for emphasis.

Fuck. They’d never lied to them before, it was the foundation of their relationship, the reason the kids trusted them so implicitly. Telling them everything would entail talking about Dick and that was risky at best and catastrophic at worst. For God’s sake, Jack had a stomachache every time he lied!

“You’re both more mature and intelligent than others your age,” Cas said with a soft, proud smile on his face but his gaze was serious. “We’ll alleviate what to share with you and not because we didn’t trust you but because we want to protect you.” He bit his lower lip thoughtfully. “Something happened today that will have consequences and we’ll tell you everything you’ll need to know.”

Dean couldn’t fault him saying that. The cops or even the feds would be on their necks soon enough and that alone would be suspicious.

“We won’t lie, we promise that,” he locked eyes with both of them. “But we may keep secrets for a while to keep you both safe.”

Claire crossed her arms and Dean prepared himself for a fight.

“Alright,” she said and Dean’s jaw almost dropped open in shock. “But I want to know if we need to kill people because Dad turned into a zombie.”

“Not a zombie, I assure you,” Cas laughed a little.

“What’s the alibi?” Jack asked. “What should we say if someone asks why are you gone?”

“You could say Dad was a bit overwhelmed by work and we went on a short vacation to relax,” Dean repeated what Sam had suggested.

“I needed a change of scenery,” Cas added.

“Okay,” Jack stood up with a smile. “Anything else we need to know?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Dean shook his head fondly.

“Then can we go?” Claire stood up. “The sooner you’re gone, the sooner you’re back and can tell us things.”

And that was that. Dean was pretty proud that neither of them questioned their sanity, just accepted what they’d said as true even if it sounded crazy. This whole talk had been worth it just because it showed they had their kids’ complete trust.

Dean was the one who knocked on Lisa’s door to tell her they couldn’t make it after all and how sorry they were about that. She was completely understanding because she was a nice person like that. Meanwhile, Cas called Benny that they would be out of town to take a break and then Bobby whom they somehow hadn’t had the time to inform of their arrival.

“Everyone ready?” Dean asked as he closed the trunk. It was four p.m. and they could go all the way to Utah before stopping for the night.

“A moment,” Cas pulled something out of his wallet and pressed it into Claire’s hand. “The cleaning ticket for your jacket,” he said. “You can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Claire grinned at him before getting into the backseat.

“You’ll call us, right?” Jack asked.

“Sure we will,” Dean started Baby. “Every day around eight. You should be done with your homework by then but before going to bed at ten.”

The synchronized moans from the back were making him smile a bit. Cas elbowed him discreetly.

Sam was already waiting for them, waving from the window of his living room.

“Call us,” Claire hugged them from behind, and was out quickly, going to the trunk.

“Stay safe,” Jack added and repeated the gesture.

“Love you!” Cas shouted after them with a smile.

“Don’t be idiots!” Dean added.

“Back at you, Dads!” Claire narrowed her eyes and probably the only thing keeping her from making a rude gesture was the idea of being grounded.

“Love you, too!” Jack grinned because of course he did.

Dean waited until the door to the stairway closed after them, then put out the signal.

Evading Los Angeles was almost routine. He was just turning onto I-210 easily when Cas spoke up.

“If we were on a road trip, we would avoid the interstate,” he pointed out. “We should use back roads.”

“Cas, this is almost a two-day travel,” Dean groaned.

“Dean, we’re trying to create an alibi here,” Cas shot back. “We should stop every couple hours, use our credit cards.”

“You think they would check that?” he blinked in surprise.

“I think we should prepare for that, yes. I did kill Dick Roman.”

“Then we shouldn’t say that out loud often, right?” Dean asked with as much sarcasm as possible.

He felt the eye-roll, but there was no retort so he counted that as a win.

They spent the next couple hours mostly in silence. It wasn’t strange, they’d done that countless times before, only enjoying the comfort the other’s presence brought. They avoided Las Vegas entirely, so that was an added bonus.

It was a familiar feeling, the open road before him, Cas beside him, humming to whatever song was playing at the time. Dean quite enjoyed it and why hadn’t they done this in years? Stopping for coffee and snacks when they filled the tank, their hands laced together between them on the bench seat. It would’ve been better with their children there, but there was something about it being just the two of them.

They spent most of their time together but somehow this almost aimless cruising was freeing and Dean had really missed it.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

The sentence threw Dean for a moment.

“'Course not.”

“Dean, I just killed someone this morning. With a touch.”

Dean winced, he couldn’t help it.

“Kinda deserved it,” he muttered.

“That doesn’t change what I did.” He felt Cas’ scrutinizing eyes on him. “When I kissed you, you never even tensed up.”

“What?” Dean shot him a look. “You kissed me to prove something? That’s not cool, man!”

“I am something else, Dean. Something that was proven dangerous. Not everyone would be comfortable with that,” Cas exclaimed.

Dean shook his head in disbelief. His husband was a frustrating son of a bitch.

“Remember our first date?” he asked more calmly. He had a point to made.

He still felt Cas’ eyes on him.

“Of course,” came the bemused reply.

They had been teenagers and broke so Dean had taken Cas up to that small lake in the mountains. It was a hidden spot, a rickety old wooden picnic table and two benches the only sign of humanity and the scenery was beautiful. They’d gone there often after – Cas had even proposed there on a warm summer evening when they had been twenty. But that first one…

“Never told you how much of a wreck I was before it, right?” Dean smiled a little as he remembered.

“No,” he practically felt Cas’ frown. “You were charming and really sweet all day.”

“Yeah, that was a lot of work,” Dean admitted. Sam had found it hilarious. Dad had been more supportive but still clearly amused. He had said later, when Dean had been vibrating out of his skin with nervousness before his wedding that he’d known then that Cas would be it for him.

“But why? You never have any problem with flirting or –”

“Because it was you,” Dean sighed. “I mean, it took me days just to man up and ask you out.” Actually, he’d had a whole damn plan for that but in the end it had just tumbled out of his mouth and he’d felt like a bumbling idiot. Right up until Cas had said yes with that bright smile of his. “It was you and I… I really wanted it to work out.” He tapped on the wheel even now, Jesus. “We were there and I tried not to trip over my own feet and you were talking about bees. You had that shine in your eyes and… I was sixteen and I just knew I wanted to make you that happy for the rest of my life.”

It should’ve been terrifying and it had been, that feeling. But Dean wouldn’t have changed it for the world. He cast a glance at his husband’s face and Cas was looking at him with those soft eyes full of adoration he still wasn’t sure he deserved but basked in it nonetheless.

“Never understood what you saw in me then,” Cas said quietly and his hand squeezed around Dean’s. “I was an awkward nerd.”

“And I was a closeted nerd,” Dean rolled his eyes and squeezed back. “Anyway, what I was trying to say is that I was a sure thing then and I’ve been since. So whatever… whatever’s going on with you, I’m here. Forever.”

The sincerity in Cas’ voice when he said, “Thank you, Dean,” was a bit heartbreaking.

Cas lifted their entwined hands and pressed a kiss to Dean’s knuckles.

“I love you,” he breathed against the skin.

“Me too, Cas.”

When it was nearing midnight Dean decided to stop at the nearest motel. Cas suggested that he could take over, but they needed the alibi and Dean was tired of sitting in the car. They both could use a break.

They did reach Utah, and Cas found an Inn in the quiet town of Marysvale - population just over four-hundred - just off the main road. He phoned ahead and the elderly couple who opened the door after they arrived seemed happy to see them even at this hour.

“Here, darlings,” the woman, Kate led them up the stairs after Dean had paid for the night beforehand (with his credit card). “This is the Hunter’s Lodge,” she opened the door of a small but cozy room with a bed, a dresser and an armchair along with typical hunter decorations, a rifle, the head of a deer and pictures adorning the wooden wall. “The bathroom is shared with the room next door but that one’s currently empty, so it’s all yours. Breakfast from six thirty to nine. The Wi-Fi password is on the dresser.”

“Thank you so much,” Cas smiled at her warmly. “We don’t want to keep you up any longer.”

“It’s no problem, dearie,” she smiled back at him, charmed by both of them from the beginning. “My husband snores, so it’s kind of a relief,” she added in a mock-whisper.

Cas laughed.

“I know the feeling,” he shot an amused look at Dean who made a wounded noise at the accusation. It made Kate giggle.

They wished each other good night, then the door closed behind her. There was no sound of footsteps, so the walls weren’t thin. The lock clicking into place as the key turned wasn’t so quiet.

“You asshole,” Dean pointed at his husband. “I don’t snore.”

“She doesn’t know that,” Cas said with big innocent eyes.

Dean picked up the closest pillow from the bed and threw it at Cas’ head. He leaned away easily with a grin.

“You want to go first?” Dean nodded towards the open bathroom door after an exasperated shake of his head and decided to take off the comforter.

He hadn’t sensed any movement so he glanced up. Cas looked him over with a familiar expression that made Dean shiver.

“Maybe we can go after we tested the bed?” he asked, voice lower already.

“Sweetheart, you blew up the lights the last time,” Dean put the cover on the dresser and crossed his arms.

“I think I just need to learn control,” he shrugged and sat down on the bed.

“Cas,” Dean said.

“Dean,” Cas arched a brow.

He was all rumpled from the long ride, his eyes dark and his toned forearms were on display and Dean was weak.

“Fuck you,” he gave up with an irritated growl and planted himself on Cas’ lap.

“Hope you will,” was all his damn sexy husband could say before Dean silenced him with a kiss.

Surprisingly, the frustration and the urgency soon melted away as Cas went completely pliant under him, now letting him take the lead. It was a complete change from yesterday’s rush and Dean loved it.

Just kissing Cas felt great, his hands roaming all over his husband’s body, grabbing onto his bicep, fingers creeping under his shirt to touch the skin of his shoulders and collarbone. Cas’ palms were sliding up his spine and into his hair, making him shiver.

“Want you inside me,” Cas murmured when Dean tipped his head back and started kissing down his neck, trying to avoid making visible bruises. “Splitting me open…”

“Cas,” Dean gasped against him, hips grinding slowly into Cas’. Why was it that after all this time this was still enough to make him half-hard?

He kissed Cas again, deeply, and his husband made a kind of wounded noise in the back of his throat, his freakishly long tongue joining Dean’s in an exciting dance.

Getting the clothes off each other soon became a problem because neither of them wanted to pull away from the other just to get rid of a shirt. Dean’s hands were already shaking with excitement, so he was fumbling with the buttons, frustration building up and thoughts derailed every other moment by the sensations coursing through him. The good thing about that was that Cas was practically vibrating under him, stubbornly keeping their pace slow even when filthy sounds were leaving his mouth and his hands seemed relentless in their exploration.

It took a while but Dean got all the buttons undone, the shirt opening for him and he tugged on the collar impatiently. Cas let him go for the time it took him to shrug it off then probably decided Dean needed to be naked as soon as possible, because he started on his plaid with a single-minded focus.

Dean pulled back from his lips and decided to take charge – Cas seemed to be in the mood for it and who was he to argue. So he took a steadying breath and pushed Cas back onto the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own top and slid down a little to start working on Cas’ jeans. Cas lifted his hips just enough to help him get them off of him, looking on with blown pupils and a flush spreading all the way down his neck. While Dean was standing, he pulled off his own pants and boxers then rummaged through the duffel and fished out the lube stashed in one of the pockets.

“Condom?” he looked up at Cas who meanwhile repositioned himself on the middle of the bed. He was all stretched out on the sheets, looking at Dean with half-lidded eyes and stroking himself lazily. Dean’s mouth went dry then watered quickly at the sight.

“Leave it,” Cas practically purred, voice low, his breath hitching and lashes fluttering. “Want to feel you.”

“Not our bed, Cas,” Dean pointed out, trying not to drool at the show.

“Honeymoon,” was all Cas said and it was enough for Dean.

Their honeymoon had been consisted of the two of them driving through the States for two months straight. It had been awesome, visiting every just slightly interesting thing together they’d found. Also, fucking each other’s brains out at every occasion. They hadn’t really cared about the beds (or any other surface) then. Dean still put a pack of wipes on the small table next to the bed for clean-up later.

Cas welcomed him back with a kiss, their stubbled jaws sliding against each other deliciously, cocks bumping together and Dean had half a mind to take both of them in hand and just finish off that way.

“Dean,” Cas growled into his ear impatiently. “Fuck me.”

How the hell could he say no to that?

“Turn around for me, babe,” he rasped out, coherent thoughts slowly crawling back into his mind as he sat back on his haunches.

Cas pressed another soft kiss on his lips before obeying, resting his head on his arms, a small smile on his face. His hips shifted in jerky, stuttering movements like he couldn’t help rutting against the sheets.

Dean took a moment to just take him in.

“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, leaning forward to kiss the nape of his neck. He felt a shiver going down Cas’ spine and he followed it with his mouth, his hands grabbing onto Cas’ waist to keep him in place. Those toned muscles relaxed under his touch, the skin becoming slick with sweat. Dean enjoyed his little journey over Cas’ body, his neglected erection bobbing between his legs as he sucked a bruise on the small of Cas’ back, his husband letting out a low moan.

He reached Cas’ ass, nipping at the firm skin enthusiastically, Cas squirming under him.

“God, love your ass,” he murmured, his own breathing coming fast and heavy.

“Love your cock in my ass,” Cas answered and opened his legs wider. “Would you hurry up?”

Dean wouldn’t have minded if he could have taken his time here, maybe eating Cas out until he was practically begging but he was pretty sure Cas wouldn’t appreciate it. Oh, he would be writhing and pushing back onto Dean’s tongue, making absolutely debauched noises, but he would kill Dean afterwards (hopefully metaphorically).

So Dean laid down comfortably between Cas’ legs, his own dangling from the bed and grabbed the lube to pour it onto his fingers. He didn’t have to wait long until it was warm enough to let one circle and breach the tight ring of muscles. Cas relaxed easily into it.

Dean had ample amount of practice with this and anything else regarding Cas’ body. He paid attention to the rhythm to be always a little off as another finger joined the first and teased Cas a bit by deliberately avoiding that spot inside him that would made him cry out as he sucked and licked at the skin of his inner thigh.

He was three fingers in and now hitting Cas’ prostate with every other thrust when Cas started cursing, eyes squeezed shut.

“Dean, I’m ready, _please_ ,” he bit out and Dean knew he was right.

He pulled out his fingers and draped himself over Cas, his chest pressing down on his back. Cas lifted his head and Dean caught his lips with his own. The angle wasn’t the best but they had enough practice to make it work, Dean grinding his rock-hard length onto the cleft of Cas’ ass impatiently.

He withdrew after a minute to slick himself up while Cas pulled his knees under himself, already panting with anticipation. Dean didn’t make him wait, he pushed inside in one swift movement, his clean hand finding Cas’ and clasping it tightly, the other grabbing onto one of those sharp hipbones to steady both of them. He groaned at the tight, scorching heat surrounding him, Cas going lax with a satisfied sigh.

There was not much talking after that, the unhurried tempo Dean’d sat perfect for the both of them. The only sounds breaking the silence were their uneven breathing, the whispered swears and bit-off moans. Cas was soft and completely yielding, his face reflecting a kind of pleasure Dean couldn’t take his eyes off after he’d seen it.

Cas’ orgasm was a surprise. Its only signs were the full-body shudder and the brief flickering of the lights overhead. His ass clenched around Dean’s cock that made him see stars and it didn’t take much to let ecstasy take him over like a tidal wave.

After, he only had enough power to tumble to the side on the narrow bed, his grip adjusting on Cas’ hand to make it more comfortable.

“You came untouched?” was all he could ask, his brain still foggy and body feeling like jelly. Not that this would’ve been the first time, but usually it required more built-up.

“You were good,” Cas slurred in confirmation. Dean turned his head so he could see him and yeah, Cas was pretty much out of it, laid out on the mattress like a fucked-out mess. His hair was wet and disheveled, blue eyes blinking slowly at Dean. He looked the closest to sleep in a while.

It took a couple uncoordinated movements to turn on his side but Dean managed it, resting his head on Cas’ arm and relishing in the warmth of his skin.

“We should shower,” he pointed out after some time. He didn’t want to move but they really needed to get cleaned up. Cas probably reached the same conclusion because he sighed and nodded.

Stumbling into the bathroom was a challenge, the shower just big enough for the both of them but the hot water was worth it. They clung to the other, sharing wet, drowsy kisses and gentle touches layered with soap until they were just standing there in a loose embrace.

Cas was the one with enough brain power to turn off the water, passing a towel to Dean before drying himself.

The bed was in pretty good condition, all things considered.

“What you gonna do while I sleep?” Dean asked as he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers.

“I brought a book, don’t worry,” Cas was using the wipes to clean most of the damage and Dean just had to get under the covers. Cas joined him after turning off the light, book in hand.

“You can see in the dark,” Dean said more than inquired. He was too tired to deal with this now.

“Not perfectly, but yes,” Cas nodded. There was a smile on his face as he looked down at Dean from his half-sitting position. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll watch over you.”

Dean was happy to obey.


	3. Way Too Much Information

He woke to kisses being pressed against his neck.

“Yesterday not enough for you?” he muttered into the pillow.

“Technically it was today,” Cas disagreed. “And you know the answer to that question. But we need to go. Bobby’s waiting for us.”

“You were the one who wanted an alibi,” Dean grumbled, snuggling deeper into Cas’ embrace.

“That’s true,” his husband admitted. “But I thought we could stop for an actual lunch. You didn’t eat much yesterday except what we bought at that Gas-n-Sip. And I hear bacon sizzling downstairs.”

That was a good incentive, Dean had to admit. He was the kind of guy who could be persuaded by food and Cas knew it.

So they got up and ready to go downstairs. Kate and her husband, Ralph were already in the little dining room, along with a young couple, the woman with a baby on her lap. Cas and Dean took a table at the corner.

“What are you gonna eat?” Dean asked with sudden dread. Cas didn’t eat now, but not ordering anything would be rude and suspicious.

Cas didn’t have time to answer as Kate appeared by their side with a bright smile.

“Good morning, dears. What can I get you?”

Dean looked over the menu in front of him and decided on eggs and bacon with toast and vegetables with a strong coffee.

“I’d like a French toast and just a glass of water, please,” Cas said.

“I’ll be right back,” Kate smiled again and left.

“We could never pull this off,” Cas murmured.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Having a place like this,” he gestured around them. “Can you imagine smiling at everyone all the time? No coincidence we don’t manage the desk in the garage.”

Fair enough.

“Yeah, we’re not friendly people,” Dean agreed.

The food arrived shortly, and looked delicious. Dean was quickly helping himself to his, because Cas had been right, he was starving.

His husband proved himself to be his usual sneaky self. To his credit, he did eat a bite of his French toast and was almost successful at hiding his grimace. Dean finished off his breakfast fast, ready to down his coffee and that was when Cas swapped their plates with a motion much too elegant and agile for him. When Dean arched a brow in question, he just looked at the toast and then back up at Dean.

So Dean started on that, too.

“It sucks,” he said with a half-full mouth.

“What?” Cas looked at him.

“That you can’t taste anything. Or taste too much, whatever.”

“I’m not as connected to food as you are,” Cas shrugged. “But I’ll miss PB&J. And your burgers. And coffee.”

Dean felt full by the time he ate everything so he passed the car keys to Cas without a word. He was going to nap a bit more.

They checked out and thanked again for Kate and Ralph for their hospitality. Dean grabbed a newspaper from the reception desk on the way out, too, his eyes stuck on the headline.

“Double murder at the edge of a town not far from here,” Dean summarized out loud as they left the parking lot. “Pretty gruesome. Chests opened and hearts missing. What kind of psycho does that?” He looked up and the frown on Cas’ face was not of judgement or revulsion. No, it was thoughtful. “What’s up?” he put the paper aside.

“Nothing,” Cas shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Cas,” he said in warning. “Talk to me.”

His husband tapped on the wheel and bit his lip.

“When you said that thing about the hearts,” he looked straight ahead of him. “The first thing that popped into my head was ‘werewolf’. Nothing else. Just hearts and then werewolf.”

And what should Dean do with this information?

He turned a bit to face Cas better.

“You think it’s a werewolf?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t know,” Cas huffed in frustration. “It’s just what came to mind. But werewolves are not a farfetched thought in our situation. There could be a bunch of mythological creatures out there without us realizing it. I am not human, we know that already, so maybe –”

“Cas, this is freaky enough already, please don’t make it worse. Not right now.” Cas still seemed intrigued but he did shut up. Dean could endure it for almost a minute. “Why am I the one who’s stressed out here, anyway? You’re cool as a cucumber, babe.”

Cas thought about it.

“I had been… wrong-footed at the beginning, yes,” he admitted. “But since I have my wings, it’s just… it feels natural to… be like this. You’re upset because it’s happening to me and you’re worried because you can’t do anything about it. In a reverse situation I would react the same.”

Seemed about right.

Dean’s phone pinged with a message half an hour into their drive. Typical Sam, he was almost asleep, just blinking at Cas sleepily, head leaned against the window.

His brother was asking about where they were and reporting that he just dropped Claire and Jack off at school. Dean texted back quickly. They agreed previously that they would speak of Roman only in person and Dean wasn’t idiot enough to google the guy for news.

The day was long and tiring even with Cas behind the wheel and Dean just napping sometimes or looking out the window or texting Benny about the garage. They did stop at a diner for lunch and Dean talked himself into eating alone. It was time he got used to that.

They stopped earlier this time for the night, after hanging up with Jack and Claire, at a motel in the northern part of Nebraska. It wasn’t as homey as the inn yesterday but Dean didn’t really care. The desert had already turned into grassy fields and ramshackle barns. They would be at Bobby’s early the next afternoon.

Dean found out he was actually handling a couple of things better with time. For example, going to bed with Cas knowing he would be the only one sleeping. Or waking up to Cas awake, looking down at him with soft eyes. Or only buying one cup of coffee. It was all in the little things, really.

They rolled into Sioux Falls around three. Being back here always made Dean smile. How many summers had he spent here just strolling the streets with Sammy or disappearing under the hood of one of the cars in Bobby’s garage, either helping him or later doing it by himself? Or when he had dragged Cas with them after being together for almost a year and sneaking away every chance they’d got to find the most random car and make out in the backseat.

“I missed this place,” he heard Cas’ muttering when they reached _Singer Salvage_.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean agreed. “We should bring Jack and Claire next summer. They haven’t been here in years. This is a better place for camping than California anyway.”

“That’s true,” Cas hummed. “But we should also help Bobby around the house.”

“We?” Dean shot him a look.

“Not my fault you’re better with your hands,” Cas shrugged innocently as Baby came to a stop in front of the old house.

“Oh, sunshine, you’re pretty good with your hands, believe me,” Dean winked at him and opened the door. God, it was good to be here after two whole days spent in the car. He wasn’t young enough to not feel it anymore.

The front door opened and a gruff face appeared on the squeaking porch.

“You weren’t on a rush, were you?” Bobby greeted them grumpily and damn, Dean had missed him.

“Nice to see you, too, Bobby,” he walked up the steps to hug the man that was his second father.

“Hello, Bobby,” Cas appeared behind his back, ready to take his place.

“Come on in,” Bobby invited them in with a smile hiding in his beard.

“We brought you a gift,” Dean handed over the bottle of expensive scotch they'd stashed in their duffel.

“Huh,” Bobby took it with a raised eyebrow. “You really need my help then.”

The inside of the house looked pretty much the same. Old books all around, but otherwise everything in its place. The living room Bobby used as his study was just as inviting as before, at least to Dean. He remembered shared nights with popcorn, trash movies and arguing about snacks.

He and Cas settled on the sofa, a spring digging into his thigh but he didn’t really care.

“So how’s the munchkins?” Bobby put the drink down on his desk and leaned against it.

“Good,” Cas smiled.

“Claire’s trying to seem like she doesn’t care about her studies but she’s got a steady 3.8 average,” Dean grinned proudly.

“You sure she’s not yours by blood?” Bobby smirked back at him. Dean rolled his eyes. “And Jack? Still looking at clouds every chance he gets?”

“Joined the eco club,” Cas told him. “And volunteers at the animal shelter. Talked Claire into it, too.”

“So we’ll probably have a dog sometime in the future,” Dean shrugged. “Not like we can say no to them.”

“Yeah, we should learn that,” Cas nodded pensively.

They talked a bit more about Sam and the garage and Bobby’s new neighbor who made a mean peach cobbler. They’d spoken on the phone often enough to be up-to-date with most things in each other’s lives but it still felt better to catch up in person.

“Enough about the small talk,” Bobby waved away the topic of broken vacuum cleaners (Dean should repair that for him). “Whatcha need my help for?”

Dean rubbed his mouth, trying to decide what to say.

“I killed someone,” Cas said bluntly. Okay, that was a route, too.

Both of Bobby’s eyebrows jumped high and his mouth opened a bit but that was the most floored expression he was probably capable of. It took him a moment, but then he cleared his throat.

“I hope you didn’t drive three days with a body in the trunk,” he crossed his arms. Man, Bobby was awesome.

“No, we didn’t,” Cas sighed.

He looked straight at Bobby and as Dean watched his eyes lit up with that bright light. However, now there were no wings and nobody seemed to get hurt, thank God.

The light disappeared after a couple seconds, irises back to their usual breathtaking blue.

Bobby’s eyes were wide and he decided to sit down on the chair behind his desk.

“Alright, boys,” he reached for the scotch. “Tell me everything.”

It took a while to sum up the last few days, but after some time the bewilderment changed into outright curiosity on Bobby’s face.

“Hmm,” he said after the pair went quiet. “I’m gonna tell you something I never planned. But you can’t look at the world the same way after this anyway and I think you need to learn this.” He took a deep breath. “The thing you’ve said about that article, Cas? You’re right. Missing hearts are pointing to werewolf.” Another pause. “Those creatures you read about in fantasy novels or see in horror movies? Most of them are out there.”

“Bobby, that’s ridiculous,” Dean snorted.

“More ridiculous than your husband growing wings?” Bobby looked at him and fine, point taken. “I’ve met those things lurking in the night, Dean. I hunted them.”

“You think I might be one of those?” Cas asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice. Dean took his hand and shot a sharp look in Bobby’s direction. If he wanted to hurt Cas they’d have a problem.

Bobby ignored him.

“Honestly?” he shook his head. “I haven’t the faintest what you are. Never seen anything like it. I can make some tests and research, if you’re up to it, though.” He glanced at Dean. “Quit it, will ya? I’m not gonna touch a hair on his head. Just let me prepare some things and give me that paper, I’ll make a call.”

It really didn’t take much time until they stood in the backyard with a table full of the strangest subjects.

“We start easy,” Bobby picked up a salt shaker. “Hold out your hand.” Cas obeyed and Bobby let the grains hit skin. Nothing happened. “Salt has a purifying effect. Works on ghosts and demons.”

The salt was followed by a tire iron that was apparently good against most monsters or witches or ghosts or demons. Silver could be used as a weapon as Bobby said when he handed Cas his flask full of holy water. The testing project turned into an impromptu lesson on supernatural beings and Dean was glad for once that he learned easier after hearing than reading because there was a lot of information. Cas was neither of the ones Bobby had met or knew how to kill, apparently. He never twitched even when Bobby torched his palm, but he did look put-out when the man stabbed him in the same place. Dean couldn’t even watch those two.

“Okay, so you burned the body, right?” Bobby asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Just with a thought.” He wrote down pyrokinesis on his list where he collected the results. “Right. Let’s see those feathers.”

The new appendages appeared with the same fanfare as last time. Dean’s breath stuck on an inhale.

“Whoa,” Bobby echoed his thoughts. “Out with ‘em.”

Cas shook them out, creating a smaller tornado in the process, then let them unfold completely. Dean had known there was a reason they were outside. There was no way those would’ve fit in a normal room stretched out like that.

“Can I touch them?” Bobby asked, already leaning close to one of them, following the arch of it with his eyes.

Cas looked to the side and shifted uncomfortably.

“Could Dean do that one?” he swallowed.

“Sure,” Bobby shrugged, not insulted one bit.

So Dean was the one who got to put his hands on them first. Yeah, he’d touched Cas millions of times before, but this… it was a whole new experience.

“Wow,” he whispered when the tip of his fingers touched one of the feathers at eye-level. It was maybe the length of his forearm. A shiver ran over Cas’ wings and he took a shaky breath. “Okay, babe?” Dean turned to look at him.

“It’s just… sensitive,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m alright.”

“They’re corporeal, for one, then, not just looking like it,” Bobby stated. “What they feel like?”

Dean tried to describe the way they were invincible under his skin like some kind of metal and how they were the softest, fluffiest thing he’d ever touched, the silky feeling bewitching. He had to pull away before he was getting more into it than appropriate, and Cas welcomed the reprieve with a relieved sigh – the way his pupils were blown let Dean know he wasn’t the only one affected.

“So you never met your parents, did ya?” Bobby asked.

“You think this is… genetic?” Cas frowned, his wings gone within a moment.

“What? You think Cas is some kind of X-Man?” Dean looked at him in disbelief.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not,” Bobby rolled his eyes at him.

He concluded his experiment shortly after that, ushering them inside. The sun was already setting so while Bobby put a stack of books on his desk, Dean went to the kitchen to put together some dinner, Cas joining him to keep him company.

It took a couple agonizing hours where Dean tried to occupy himself with tinkering around the house (the vacuum cleaner had been tricky to fix) but well after they hung up the phone with Jack and Claire, Bobby was ready to put an old tome in front of Cas before putting his empty plate in the sink.

“Read this,” he waved at the page full of strange symbols. It was a text but Dean’d never seen anything like it. There were pretty easy ones looking like runes and more elaborate ones inscribed with circles and squares.

Cas looked at it for a moment, then he started speaking. His voice was impossibly deep and the words didn’t make a lick of sense but he never stopped for even a moment. It was like he was reading the news, except the longer he read, the air was becoming more… static, a tension filling the whole room. Dean had heard about the power of words but he never thought it could be literal.

Cas reached the bottom of the page, looking up like he was waking from a trance.

“You understood all that?” Bobby asked carefully.

“It’s –” Cas licked his lips nervously. Dean put a hand on his shoulder to calm him a bit. “It’s about the biblical apocalypse. The appearance of the four horsemen.”

Bobby looked at him with inquisitive eyes for a long moment, then turned on his heel and went back to his desk. Dean and Cas followed him.

“Here,” he turned another old and dusty book towards them.

“Angel,” Cas read aloud the title of the chapter. His brow arched in disbelief and Dean couldn’t help but mirror his reaction. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Bobby, not for nothing, but Cas isn’t very angelic,” he added. “Sorry, babe, no offense, but you just killed someone,” he murmured to his husband.

“That’s the best I’ve got,” Bobby huffed indignantly. “Text you just read out loud without a hitch? Enochian – the language of angels.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got fuckin’ wings, boy. Ain’t that many creatures out there with those.”

Angel. A freakin’ angel. Wow. That was a bit… overwhelming.

“You’re saying my husband is a choir boy with a halo? That’s just… you don’t think there’s something wrong with this?”

“Homophobia is a human concept, Dean,” Cas pointed out. “I don’t think God, if He exists, really cares about that.”

“We don’t even go to church.” He turned to his husband. “I’m an atheist, you believe in humans. You’re an accountant and you hate waiting in line and that your phone has to be charged and when I eat chips on the couch. You’re not a dude sitting on someone’s shoulder.”

“You got no idea about angel lore, right?” Bobby asked.

“Seeing as I never thought I would need it – ever – no, I’m not.”

“Angels are warriors of God,” the old man rubbed his face. “They’re agents of fate and _not_ playing harp on clouds. There’s a lot of lore on them, some contradicting, but it’s true they’re one of the most powerful creatures in the world. They could destroy entire cities in a minute. They have.”

“I do feel powerful,” Cas said doubtfully. “But not that much.”

“Look, I’m no expert. But I know of one.” He raked through a bunch of random-looking notes before he pulled out a scrap of paper. “Got it. Lily Sunder. She knows everything there is to know about angels. Never really believed in that but put this away just in case.”

Dean took the paper from him. It was a phone number and an address in Orono, Maine.

“We’ll call her tomorrow,” he handed it back, still reeling from the last ten minutes. “I’m beat. Who wants a drink?”

An undeterminable time later he woke to a pounding head and a cotton-filled mouth. He groaned pitifully.

“You were last hungover when Jack and Claire went to summer camp four years ago,” a voice said next to his head. The blurry memories of a lot of whiskey, an old horror movie and fucking on the couch were there but it hurt just thinking about it. It hurt thinking about anything, really.

“ _Cas_ ,” he whined.

“Can I try something to make it better?” his husband asked.

Dean was pretty sure he made some noise of assent. A big, cool hand touched his forehead and that alone felt great. But then something else happened. It was like lowering himself into a metaphysical lake on a hot summer day, like the best massage and sparks of starlight at the same time.

The effect was immediate. The headache receded into the back of his mind, not completely gone but barely there. His mouth felt like normal, saliva back doing its work and the light shining through his lids stopped being like a stab into his retinas. What stayed was the haziness of sleep.

“How are you feeling?” Cas asked with a touch of worry.

“Love ya,” Dean sighed in complete relief, muscles relaxing into the bedding. Cas chuckled and pressed a kiss on his hair. “What was that?”

“I read Bobby’s books all night. There were many mentions about angels healing and I thought I would give it a try.” The sudden alarm must’ve been obvious on Dean’s face because he continued. “I tested it already outside on a plant and a stray cat. Both were successful. And I was very careful, Dean, believe me.”

Dean finally opened his eyes and was met with the sun shining through the guest room window. He sat up.

“How did I get up here?” he looked around blearily. His last memory was of the living room.

Cas was sitting on the ground next to the bed in his boxers. Dean lied back down so they could be on mostly the same level.

“I brought you up. Bobby’s sofa is not good for your back.”

“You just… what? Picked me up?”

“Yes. I think I can carry a lot of weight now.”

Dean’s mind still wasn’t at full capacity but something about that did trickle through to his consciousness.

“Man, so much possibilities,” he realized.

Cas snorted.

“We can talk about that later.”

“No, no, no!” Dean protested, now completely awake, propping himself on one elbow. “This is an important conversation. Like, could you hold me up long enough to screw me against a wall?” Neither of them had ever been light and even though Cas had been strong before – something Dean had admired on many occasions – holding the other’s full weight was something they could do only for a short while or with some help from either the other or sturdy inanimate objects.

Cas’ eyes darkened beautifully with lust and he leaned closer to whisper against Dean’s lips.

“I’m pretty sure I could hold you up in thin air and fuck you like that.”

Dean’s breath hitched, his face heated up and desire coursed through him, blood flowing south at the mental image.

“Tease,” he pouted.

“Just if I don’t follow through,” Cas had a touch of that smirk from a couple days ago back on his face. Now it didn’t seem so out of place, somehow – maybe because they knew more or because Cas felt more confident than before. Dean could get used to seeing it, actually. “So what if we call that Lily Sunder, then we go home and try it out.”

“Sure,” Dean closed the gap between them for a quick kiss and then got out of bed. He was dressed down to his briefs and undershirt (thanks to Cas, most likely) and picked out fresh clothes.

“You wanna talk about it?” Cas asked.

“About what?” Dean asked and pulled his undershirt over his head.

He didn’t like the stern look Cas directed at him.

“Dean, you may think you’re fine but you’re not,” his husband stood up and walked up to him. “Last night proved that.”

“That’s bullshit,” he crossed his arms.

“You drank yourself to unconsciousness. You haven’t done that since college,” Cas pointed out. His eyes were shining with worry. “I know this whole ordeal is pure madness and I’m sorry I’m making you go through that. But if this has such an impact on you, you can get out of this. You’re putting up walls and using bravado and you’ve never done that with me. Everybody else but not me. I don’t want you to grow distant and resent me later.”

Shit, Cas was thinking about this totally the wrong way and Dean needed to fix it immediately.

“Hey, no,” he cupped Cas’ face so he could look straight into his eyes. “First off, you don’t make me go through anything. I choose to be here just as I always would. Not because I made a vow about it years ago. But because I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

“But you’re –”

“A bit out of it, yeah,” Dean admitted.

He should’ve talked to Cas about this instead of tossing down half a bottle of bourbon. The last time he’d decided to drink his problems away had been that time when Cas started hanging out with Meg Masters who’d worked at the coffee shop near campus. She’d been pretty and full of snark and Dean had been so irrationally jealous, sure that he would lose Cas sooner or later. When the bar Dean’d chose to drown his sorrows in had called Cas at three a.m. to take him home, his then-boyfriend hadn’t been happy with him. So he’d sat them down as soon as Dean had finished throwing up in the morning and had made them talk. It hadn’t been easy, admitting his fears out loud. But it helped, hearing Cas’ reassurances about hanging out with Meg because they had similar backgrounds and that yes, he liked her but why would Dean think it was anything compared to his feelings for him? Also, Cas’ embarrassed confession about asking her opinion on proposing had been convincing enough – which he had done a couple weeks later. They’d always talked through things since then and it _worked_.

That disaster was happening all over again because Dean was falling back into that mindset. Damn it.

“Cas, you’re an angel,” he couldn’t say it louder than a whisper.

“I might be one,” Cas corrected him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. “You’re – you’re something magical and ethereal. You’ve been out of my league from day one but this takes it to another level. I mean,” he took a deep breath, “you’re a heavenly force or something and maybe you don’t want to live the rest of your life with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” Cas’ eyes flashed dangerously.

“Y’know, ordinary.”

“Dean, that’s utter nonsense,” Cas said incredulously. “You’re the most amazing, selfless, caring person I’ve ever met. Why would I want to be anywhere else than by your side?” He leaned up for a tender kiss. “You’re anything but ordinary. And I may have wings now but this doesn’t mean I’m going to fly away from you. You have to trust me on that.”

He pulled Cas in for a hug, clinging to him fiercely. Cas molded against him perfectly, and Dean still felt like this was where he belonged, between Cas’ arms. That was something that hadn’t changed.

Whatever Cas had said about him being selfless wasn’t true because the murmured request of “Don’t leave me, please,” into Cas’ neck was purely for himself.

“I won’t,” Cas promised, his palm a reassuring presence on Dean’s back.

He didn’t know how long they stood there but Dean felt better already, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Let’s call that chick. I would probably handle this more easily if I knew more.”

“I agree,” Cas nodded but didn’t let him go. “In a minute.”

Dean smiled and held on tighter.

When they finally did go downstairs, dressed and clean, Bobby was already waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Eat,” he put the milk and cereal in front of Dean as soon as he sat down, completing it with a mug full of hot coffee.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean smiled at him gratefully.

“You look better than I expected after last night,” the old man squinted at him.

“Sorry about that,” Dean winced, taking a gulp. He was pretty sure that if he told Bobby that Cas used the same mojo on him he had on Roman to cure his hangover, it wouldn’t go down well. “We talked so I’m good now.” He swallowed the first spoonful before admitting, “Well, not good, but less like a non-functioning alcoholic.”

“Good to know,” Bobby grumbled. He seemed more relaxed, so he had probably worried a bit, too. “I’ll call Lily while you finish that up. Tell her what’s up with you,” he glanced at Cas.

“Thank you,” Cas smiled at him.

Dean was eating in silence when Cas touched his calf with his foot, looking at him intently over the table. Dean swallowed and grinned, raising his own leg to press back against Cas’ because how long had it been since they’d played footsie?

Not that they could enjoy it for long. Bobby was back in no time, face serious.

“Here,” he put the phone down between them.

“Mr. Winchester?” a woman asked on the other side.

“It’s me,” Cas answered.

“Mr. Singer told me about your situation,” she said.

“Excuse me,” Dean spoke up. “Ms. Sunders, I’m not trying to be rude but how can we know you’re an expert?”

Bobby huffed, probably insulted that Dean doubted his sources but this was about Cas and he wasn’t going to take chances.

“You must be the husband,” she sounded amused. “I’m a professor of apocalyptic lore, Mr. Winchester, but my secret hobby is researching angels. My husband, Akobel, is one of them, so I have a primary source and experience. I can also prove my knowledge by asking if you tried to use those wings for their main purpose.”

Damn, they were idiots.

“Flying,” Cas breathed out in wonder, eyes already shining with excitement.

“If you’re an angel, you can hear prayers directed at you. I’ll send over a visual of my garden. You should feel it like a kind of tugging inside you and I want you to follow it.”

Yeah, that didn’t sound like a trap at all. Dean muted the call on their end.

“Bobby?” he looked at the old man.

“I don’t know her well, but I trust her intentions,” Bobby said.

Dean took a deep breath and looked at Cas.

“You wanna try?” he asked.

“Just if you’re okay with it,” Cas cradled his jaw with a hand in a tender gesture. Dean smiled a bit and kissed the inside of his wrist. Then he put the sound back on. “I’m ready,” Cas stood up. He summoned his wings, the process seeming to be getting easier every time he’d done it. He didn’t even push a plate from the counter.

“Shouldn’t we take this outside?” Dean was suddenly hit with the fact that they were in a kitchen.

“Angel flying is faster than human perception and isn’t influenced by things like walls or ceilings, just really special warding,” Lily appeased him. “It’s more like teleport, if you want a common phrase for it.”

“Great,” was all Dean could say to that. Well, it was at least fast.

“Alright, then I start.”

A second or two later Cas’ face lit up with a bright grin that turned into his focusing frown. He looked at Dean for a moment who nodded again. Cas’ wings beat the air once, almost taking out the window and then he was gone, the residual wind ruffling Dean’s hair and clothes.

“Whoa!” Lily said in the phone. “Mr. Winchester, I presume.”

“My apologies,” he heard Cas’ voice and some shuffling. Both he and Bobby let out a sigh of relief.

“Cas, you okay?” he had to ask.

Instead of an answer the whirlwind was back along with Cas who leaned down with the same movement to give him a breathless kiss. Dean hadn’t seen him giddy often but now he was almost bouncing on his feet.

“This was amazing!” he grinned. “Can I show you?”

Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Flying? Him?

“You can take others with you, but a human wouldn’t perceive it the same way,” Lily spoke up. “But if the two of you could fly here, we could talk in person. I’m sure your husband wouldn’t wanna be left out of this.”

Damn it, she was right.

“How would a human perceive it then?” Dean asked in thinly-veiled apprehension.

“You wouldn’t sense the flying itself. It would be a bit disorienting, maybe dizzying at first. The only thing you’ll know is that you’ve been at one place and then you’re somewhere else.”

That sounded way better than an airplane, but still.

“Don’t drop me halfway to Maine,” he warned Cas and stood up himself.

“I’ll be right here,” Bobby took a step back. “It’s something you should handle yourself.”

“They should be back in a couple hours,” Lily finished and the line went dead.

“Don’t kill anyone else,” Bobby shook his head at them.

“We’ll try,” Dean rolled his eyes. Hey, they could joke about murder now! What a feat!

Cas took him by the waist and pulled them flush together. Dean threaded his arms around his neck, burying his face in Cas’ shoulder.

“Trust me,” his husband murmured, lips brushing his cheek.

“I do,” Dean grumbled. “You think I would let –”

There was a whooping sensation in his stomach and like the ground was pulled from under his feet, the next second the sole of his boots connecting hardly with solid ground again. It was a bit like jumping without actually doing it. It _was_ disorienting.

“You alright, beloved?” Cas pulled back a bit, voice concerned. When Dean took stock and it still felt like every organ and limb was still in place, he nodded mutely. “Then maybe you’d like to open your eyes?”

Smug asshole, Dean thought at the amused tone but he did draw back and looked around.

The weather had been chilly but sunny in Sioux Falls. Here there were clouds and wind and a couple degrees colder, especially without a jacket.

The garden was nice, flowers just starting to bloom, the grass a fresh green.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas looked at him with a fond smile.

“Heya, Cas,” he exhaled, letting himself take a step back, a palm sliding over Cas’ chest more in reassurance than anything. The wings were already gone.

The only house in their vicinity was a yellow-painted, two-story building. There was a woman stepping off the porch and walking up to them.

She was probably in her late-thirties with red hair and pale skin, dressed in an elegant costume that made her look professional. Not that her hobby could be considered much of a profession.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mr. Winchester,” Lily held out her hand. “Thank you for not landing inches away from me this time.”

“I’m Dean, this is Castiel,” Dean introduced themselves.

Her eyes lit up as he looked at Cas.

“Did you choose your name?” she asked curiously.

“What?” Dean blinked in confusion before he understood. “Oh.”

Now that he thought about it, one of the first things he’d asked Cas had been the origin of his name.

“No,” Cas frowned. “I know it’s angelic but I don’t think it was intentional.”

“It’s not surprising,” Lily hummed in thought. “Please come inside. I’ll tell you everything that I know.”

The house was full of warm colors and wooden furniture. They were led into a study. It was littered with books and case files, paintings of landscapes hanging on the wall. Dean also spotted a picture on the desk of Lily, a tall man with a blond ponytail (probably her husband) and a little girl. The armchairs were cushy and comfortable as he and Cas sat down on them, Lily taking the chair behind the desk.

She did tell them everything, even when they threw in random questions about one thing or another.

She started with the wings, now that Cas had tested them.

“They have other purposes than flying, of course. The feathers should feel hard to the touch in some way. It’s because they could be used both as a weapon and a shield.”

She explained how the underside was way more sensitive and pulled out an actual detailed illustration of their structure. Dean tried to concentrate with everything he had because it could be useful later in more ways than one and studying how things worked was his passion and gave him some sense of familiarity.

She then changed the topic to the strange headache which had been apparently Cas tapping into an angel communication system. The screeching he’d heard was him being still in the middle of his transformation but now he should get Enochian words without any of the uncomfortable side-effects. Theoretically he could just tune in and out, using it as he pleased just like a CB radio.

Here Cas asked how could anyone even turn into an angel in the first place and why had it happened now. Lily admitted she had no real data for that because it never happened the same way. She knew of maybe a dozen angels all over the planet of the probably hundreds or thousands. Some changed as early as their teens, others not until they were way into their fifties – her husband had been just over twenty. The only things that seemed to match were the angelic names (which were more and more common these days) and the way there were no blood-families. The origin of the species was still a mystery.

What she talked a lot about was _grace_ which was the very essence of every angel. What Dean understood was that it was this cosmic, almost inexhaustible energy that ensured everything that made up an angel. So Cas now technically didn’t have a soul because that had merged with his life-force and had become that bluish white light they had seen. It was the reason Cas didn’t need sleep or food anymore – she added that he could try doing those anyway, but it required practice and most didn’t bother with it. That it could be used for healing as much as destruction (Dean’s hangover and Dick’s death being good example for both, not that they told her about either). It was just a neutral energy that’s use depended on the owner. With powerful emotions it could overcharge and made a couple electronic incident but that was also connected to control.

“I have to add, if the situation is dire enough, you’ll probably be able to materialize it into a blade such as this,” she showed them a picture of a silvery-looking, triple-edged, long dagger, the handle and the knife made of the same material. “It could be used as effectively as a touch of grace. It is also the only thing that can kill you. As you experienced, you can’t be hurt by a normal weapon. This one would do it, but as far as I know, only angels wield these.”

Dean didn’t like where the conversation was going.

Lily said that some of the angels used their endurance to hunt down monsters or demons if they hurt humans. They had the advantage over a regular hunter (like Bobby) in their instinctual knowledge of close combat and the way they could sense or even see other creatures for what they were.

“So the light I see when I look at someone –” Cas started and Lily nodded.

“Souls.”

Cas turned to look at Dean again, eyes wide and amazed and Dean flushed.

“Stop it,” he muttered. So Cas could see his soul if so desired and obviously liked it. It could be worse.

“Are you experiencing higher desire for sex?” Lily asked out of the blue.

“Yes,” Cas answered immediately, attention back on her.

“Really?” That was news for Dean. Yeah, Cas had been horny but that wasn’t completely out of character for him.

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “But I can control it.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” Dean said carefully.

“Believe me, I do,” Cas smiled at him fondly.

“You could’ve said something, man.”

“Dean, you were freaking out already.”

Lily interrupted them with the question, “Do you feel any strong sexual attraction to others than your husband?” and it was like the scratch of a record player in Dean’s head.

“What?” he asked faintly.

“No!” came Cas’ strong answer and his hand grabbed Dean’s tightly. “Dean, I would never –”

“Sure,” Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know, it was just, for a moment…” He looked at Lily sharply. “Should we expect that?”

“Probably not. An angel’s instincts and senses are working on a higher level, so they’re harder to control. If you have a fulfilling marriage, there shouldn’t be a problem. Just like in any other relationship.”

Great. At least Dean didn’t have to worry about being a good husband and dad more than he already had.

“Are there any other danger Cas could be in?” he fidgeted with his free hand. “Besides getting stabbed by that thing,” he nodded at the picture in front of them.

Lily paused.

“Of dying? No.” She looked at the top of her desk in thought for a moment. “I don’t know where you live but there is an organization, a secret society named the Men of Letters. They’re mostly academics, studying the supernatural, but they’re not above violence. I’ve heard rumors about them hunting down angels. I don’t know if they’ve found any or what they’d do with one. But you don’t want them anywhere near your life.” She pulled out a paper and a pen, drawing some kind of symbol from memory. She turned it around and Dean was surprised to recognize a Unicursal hexagram, a geometric shape he’d last seen in college. “This is the Aquarian Star, their symbol. You see it on anyone’s clothes, vehicle or even keychain, you should be out of there as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Dean’s stomach was churning and he held tighter onto Cas’ hand.

“Thank you,” his husband nodded gratefully.

“That’s all I can tell you now anyway, but if you have any questions, you have my number.” Lily stood up with a smile, Dean and Cas following.

“It goes the other way, too,” Cas said to her. “You dedicated much of your time to angels and I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”

Lily shot him a look full of gratitude.

It was only just two p.m. but the clouds overhead made the outside world look darker and a good downpour was probably just minutes away.

Cas let out his wings, the feathers fluffing up, then turned back around.

“So is there a God?” he asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Lily answered and her eyes were gentle. “You don’t have any holy missions or heavenly duties, Castiel, I assure you. Angels are just another species of creatures roaming the Earth. Yes, they’re more powerful than a ghoul, for example, but it doesn’t mean you have any obligations. Just live your life. No one asks you anything.”

Dean’s body flooded with relief at hearing that and Cas was smiling, too.

“Thank you again,” he waved from the middle of the garden, then let Cas pull him close. He was emotionally and mentally drained and Cas felt solid and sure under his hands.

Lily waved back, then the world jumped or _they_ jumped and Bobby’s guest room surrounded them the next second.

“You know he’s probably downstairs, right?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Cas rolled his eyes. “But you’re tired. Take a nap and I’ll tell Bobby what we’ve learned. I’ll be back with a sandwich when you wake up.”

“Thanks, Cas,” he smoothed a couple wayward strands of Cas’ hair down. “How are you, though? Not tired, I guess, but – how are you?”

Cas looked away, but just for a moment.

“It was… a lot,” he admitted. “But I think we could work our way through it.”

He was probably right. What were the chances of those Men of Letters turning up in Santa Clarita anyway?

Dean’s nap was more of a doze and the night wasn’t better. Sleep was avoiding him, which only happened when he was stressed, but he really hoped getting home and back to their life would solve the problem.

Waving goodbye to Bobby the next day was followed by a long and strenuous car ride. They did make it to California in just two days, sometimes using the interstate, not really trying to play into their cover anymore. The sun felt good on his face and it was just setting when Cas parked Baby on their driveway.

Sam’s car was already there, he and the kids probably waiting for them inside, ready to hear the things they hadn’t talked about on the phone which were mostly everything important. Dean stopped at the front door with the duffel in hand, not feeling up to facing all that.

“Hey,” Cas stopped before him, taking the bag from him and leaning in so his forehead rested against Dean’s. “I’ll tell them to let us be for now, okay? Sam could sleep here and Claire and Jack could miss a day of school. We’ll speak with them tomorrow.”

“Claire won’t like that,” Dean mumbled.

“She’s fifteen. She can deal with it.” Cas shrugged. “I handle them. You stay here as long as you like.” His brows furrowed. “Or until I drag you inside in an hour or so.”

“You’re the best.” Dean’s smile was weak but it was there.

Cas kissed his cheek and disappeared inside, voices already reaching Dean before the door closed. He closed his eyes and sighed then sat down onto the steps. He just needed some time to himself – and a lot of sleep.

“Hi!” a cheery voice said just above his head after who knows how many minutes. He glanced up in surprise and looked straight at a big smile and fiery red hair.

The chic was probably in her late-twenties, wearing jeans and a shirt with the Star Trek logo on it. She seemed… nerdy and cool.

“Hi,” Dean greeted her, totally not understanding what was going on. The last week had been hard on him in that regard so now he was just kinda going along with things.

“I’m Charlie, just moved in across from you,” she pointed behind her back. The once empty house had new curtains in its windows, a cute yellow AMC and a red bike stood next to each other on the driveway. He hadn’t even noticed. “I saw you here sitting on the stairs all by yourself and you seemed pretty devastated. You must be Dean.”

“Okay, how’s the two connecting?” he had to ask.

Charlie made herself right at home and sat down beside him.

“Well, the hot lady next door said that you and your husband live here and that the dreamy one with blue eyes is Castiel, the handsome one with freckles is Dean. So you must be Dean.” She took a breath. “Everyone was saying you had a family thing and couldn’t come to the BBQ, and how sorry they all are that we can’t meet because we would surely get along. Heteronormative bullshit, if you ask me, but it made me curious.”

It took a moment to click.

“Oh, so you are…” he let the sentence tail off because he didn’t want to assume.

“Out and proud lesbian,” Charlie grinned. “My girlfriend, Dorothy and I are trying out this whole white picket fence thing.”

“Good for you,” Dean nodded, Charlie’s happy demeanor making him smile despite his exhaustion. “Sorry we missed the party. And I’m not devastated, I’m just tired. God, so tired,” he massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Then why are you out here and not snoring in your bed?” she arched a brow.

Dean opened and closed his mouth. His family was great. They would let him rest if he really needed it. And hell he did.

“Good point,” he nodded.

They both stood up.

“Hey, if you ever find some free time, we could get together for a dinner? That’s what they do here, right? And then we can introduce our significant others to each other.”

“Sounds good,” Dean said honestly. “It’s a bit hectic right now but maybe next week?”

They could figure at least some things out in a week, surely.

“Well, I work from home so you can just knock anytime,” Charlie clapped his shoulder like they were already friends and sauntered across the street.

Dean felt a hopeful smile tug at his lips as he walked inside to his family. Everything wasn’t okay yet, not even close, but together they could face anything. They could design their own form of normalcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already started on the sequel, if you're interested. (Don’t worry, the action's coming.) Thank you for reading.


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